


Mari's Scars

by tatteredspider



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatteredspider/pseuds/tatteredspider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mari tells her boys about her scars</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mari's Scars

     "Shit!" Anders screamed, seeing the Stone Golem's fist lash out, connecting with Mari's torso and sending her flying to slam into the rock wall. She collapsed in a heap, unmoving. Without thinking he lashed out, freezing the creature in a wall of ice, long enough for Fenris to shatter it with his warhammer.

     No time to think, he rushed to Mari's side. She groaned, not quite conscious, struggling against the dwarf, Varric's hands as he tried to keep her still. "A little help here, Blondie," he called. A small pulse of magic and Mari was calm, sleeping- he prayed to the Maker. Head wounds could be tricky, even with magic.

     "Fenris, Varric, I need to check her over." Blue-white light enveloped his hands, then travelled over her body, concentrating for a few extra minutes over her head. He stopped, taking a few moments to catch his breath and pull a small mana potion from his belt pouch. "All right, her concussion has been dealt with, but the chainmail lining in her tunic is keeping me from a true delving into her torso. I can't read her organs, her spine. The shirt needs to come off." Fenris growled, but Varric's hand on his arm calmed him. "He's right, Elf. Give me a hand."

     They made short work of it, propping her up, finding bloody tears on her vest, her tunic, her back. Varric gasped and Fenris was growling again, but Anders had returned deep into his magic, knitting together bone and flesh. When it was done, when there was no more left of the injury or his mana, he slumped down with fatigue.

     "Um, Blondie?" Varric began softly. "Is this normal?" Anders looked over, then gasped, straightening up to get a better look. The others had lain Mari down on her stomach to give Anders better access to the scrapes and cuts on her back. Those were gone, as though they never existed. But what remained were a large number of raised scars, lash marks over lapping from shoulder to just below the waistband of her breeches. "Oh, Maker," he whispered. She'd been whipped. Repeatedly, and by the slight silvering he thought that Magebane might have been used to make sure of scarring. He felt sick, the thought of the amount of pain she had to have endured. And they were relatively recent, months as opposed to years.

     "Cover her," Fenris said softly, and Verric jumped to comply. The two of them worked her back into her vest, then placed her pack under her head to make her a bit more comfortable. Then they waited for her to awaken.

                                                                       ********************************************************************************

  _Mari's hands are shaking slightly as she re-reads the note. Tomorrow the year was up, no more working for the Red Iron. No more working for Meeran. When Carver saw the missive, asking for Mari alone once again, he became sullen, angry._ There she goes again, taking all the glory _. He didn't know. He couldn't know. He'd kill Meeran, put them all at risk. She loved him for that._

_Mother is annoyed that she was running off again. She just got home from a job, surely Meeran would give her time to recuperate before sending her off again. She can't explain to her mother so she placates her as much as she's able, snagging a hardtack roll from the dinner table before running out. She can't explain that she has no choice, why this is something she has to do. Gamlen meerly smirks. She's sure the ass knows what's going on, sold her especially for this, but she can't prove it and won't hurt her mother or brother with the accusations._

_The trip to Meeran's office feels too short, a set of rooms at the back of the Blooming Rose. Oh, how she wants to burn this place to the ground! Reynard and Max, Meeran's usual bodyguards, are nowhere to be seen. Good money well spent. They were complications that she didn't need. The big oaken door to his office was closed tight, but that was good. He can't see that they're missing._

_She opens the door and strides in. He's expecting her and doesn't like when she knocks. He doesn't look up as she approaches, just raises his index finger to signal for her to wait. Maker, she wants to bite off that offending digit._

_"Well," he begins, lifting his eyes, finally. "Last night of your year. Bet you're happy, huh?" It's all I can do not to grind my teeth to answer yes. "You know, of course, that our other arrangment is still in effect, right? You'll always belong to me."_

_He stood, coming around his desk, hand out to caress her breast. When she cringes it becomes a slap. "You know not to make that face, Mari. Do you want me to go to the Templars? Do you want your dear mother and baby brother to be hanged as sympathizers?" She shakes her head, mindful of how close he came to finding her little surprise tucked into her breast band. His hand snakes out, gripping the hair at the nape of her neck, dragging her into a bruising kiss. Mari clenches her hands, fights the urge to fry the misbegotten asshole. But she can't kill him, he has too many contacts, too many influencial friends._

_He twists, slams her into the desk, skirt up and smalls down before she can blink. She hates this. Hates it! But for Mother, for Carver, she does it. Without preamble, he slams into her, grunting, sweating, reaking of stale wine and rotten fish. She tries not to think about it, push it to the back of her mind. He's done this before, just ignore it. Do what you need to do. Her hand slides up between her breasts, palms the small dagger hidden there. He slams, slams, slams, grunts and pulls out, slaps her ass. She spins, knife to his prick. He is NOT going to do this again! But he's not surprised, just stands there, grins his evil grin. "Well, well," he chuckles."Finally showing a bit of teeth, are ye?"_

_Meeran reties his breeches, even when Mari's blade nicks his hand. Reynard and Max walk in and grip Mari's arms, take her knife. Dammit! Sovereigns don't go nearly as far as they used to. Mari snarls, then slumps in defeat. The Templars were going to come and kill her family, make her Tranquil. All her fault, her fault. "Boys, I think we need to teach Mari a little lesson, don't we?" He turns, pulling a long riding crop from behind his desk._

_"Hold her still." And they do, one on each side, tight. Meeran peels off her vest and breast band, revealing her to the room, but the boys don't care, and the old man has had his fun. The boys bend her over the desk, back exposed. She hears a cork, then the cold tingle of liquid and feels her mana drain from her soul. Magebane infused potion, being smeared into her skin. She wouldn't be healing this one. She hopes he kills her. The first thwack of the crop makes her cringe. By five she is crying. By ten she is screaming. By twenty, she is in darkness._

_She wakes at Gamlen's, in the main room, on the floor. Her mother is crying, Gamlen is bitching, and Carver is bandaging her torso._

_"How long?" Carver asks. Mari just blinks, stares at the ceiling._

_"How long has this been going on, Mari?"_

_"The year," she croaks._

_"Why?"_

_"Why what, Carver? Why did he do it? Why did I let him?" Mari asks. "For the family. So he wouldn't go to the Templars. They'd hang you and mother for not turning me in."_

_He stops, then ties off the bandage and helps her into a clean shirt. One of Dad's, over-sized and comfortable. "Why not tell me?"_

_"What are you thinking of doing right now?" Mari grunts, pulling herself up into one of Gamlen's few chairs._

_"I thought I might go kill him."_

_"That's why. He's too powerful in Kirkwall, and we're not. But there will come a day, Carver. Believe me." Mari closes her eyes, blocking out the pain as much as she's able. And Carver reaches out, briefly, to stroke her hair._

                                                                   *******************************************************************************

     They had been home from the Deep Roads for approximately a month when Meeran's body was found. No one was really sure if the killing blow had been the burning, the sword strike or the crossbow bolt between the eyes. All would have been fatal, but all agreed that the torture he endured- the lashes, the cuts, the malt vinegar applied to the wounds- had to have been the most painful thing to endure. And when Hawke learned of his death she hugged her friends tight. And cried.


End file.
